


can't leave love alone in the sun

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Series: of all of the faces, you were the one next to me [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Making Up, POV Elaine Lewis, POV Simon Lewis, Post-Episode: s02e03 Parabatai Lost, Sequel, all that spicy goodness you know and love from our fav problematic duo, fresh and hot from the oven with a side of sass, ok so I've rewritten this at least five times, the saphael you want and deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9524042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: Elaine had passed by his bedroom door, intent upon collecting dirty laundry when she heard muffled voices. Male. She hadn't planned on eavesdropping, these things happen. She was concerned and what parent worth their weight in salt would walk right on by without checking in?"Brought you something. This is a one time thing, don't get used to it," offered voice number one."Um, thanks. I've been running low lately." Simon."You need to eat every two hours. Who's taking care of that?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Now for your enjoyment, the sequel to How Soon is Now featuring Elaine Lewis and (toward the end) saphael, baby! 
> 
> How Soon is Now http://archiveofourown.org/works/9431390

 

 

 

He showed up on a Monday after sunset but not quite in the way she'd imagined. 

In her mind she'd planned out the ideal dinner. It'd be a casual sit down affair with fancy china and root vegetables, a juicy pot roast warming in the oven. Simon would groan when the topic split from his accounting career to the play he'd been in alongside Clary when they were six. She'd open the creaky photo album with its loose binding and share stories of Simon as a child because that's what mothers do.

They take their child's partner under their wing and brag about the boy they're both crazy over until said child turns beet red then apologize once the damage has been done. It's really not  _that_ bad. 

It didn't go that way at all.

* * *

 

Simon had been home for three days when it happened and slept most of them away. When Rebecca wasn't barging in and interrogating him about his life, that was. 

Elaine had passed by his bedroom door, intent upon collecting dirty laundry when she heard muffled voices. Male. She hadn't  _planned_ on eavesdropping, these things happen. She was concerned and what parent worth their weight in salt would walk right on by without checking in? 

"Brought you something. This is a one time thing, don't get used to it," offered voice number one.

"Um, thanks. I've been running low lately." Simon.

"You need to eat every two hours. Who's taking care of that?" 

Raphael? At this hour? How in the world had he made it into Simon's room without scaling the rear wall of the house? And why hadn't he used the front door?

" _I_ am."

"Clearly that's working out for you."

Simon groaned, followed by "Why are you even here, Raphael?" 

"Find Camille," a harsh tone said, pausing between words. 

She must work with them. 

Simon's voice rose a decibel in frustration. "Y'know you keep hunting me down and saying the same thing. Starting to think maybe you miss me."

"I have better things to do than-"

"Like _what?_ "

 

The silence was heavy and she nearly bolted in fear of them finding her with ear pressed against the door, empty hamper in hand. As if that wouldn't come off as sketchy. Just as she'd taken exactly two steps away, they began to speak again. Tip toeing, she resumed her position.

 

"You're no longer privy to that information or have you forgotten?"

Hmm that must've been one hell of a falling out, wow.

Simon groused, tone thick with anger. "How could I when you're popping up everywhere reminding me?" 

Raphael made a low growling noise, possibly pacing from the sound of it. "It's  _business_ ," he insisted. 

"Don't you ever stop lying? Look at yourself, Raphael. You're paler than usual and I know for certain that suit used to fit you better because it was snug on me. When was the last time you fed?"

They share clothes and refer to eating as  _feeding._ Kids these days are much different than in her day. She doesn't understand half the slang they use or the excuses they give for having been away.   She feels a pang of guilt for having insisted on Raphael joining them for dinner when it's obvious the child has food issues. Perhaps a bold coffee blend and mini muffins then, no pressure. 

 

"That's not your job anymore, Simon. You resigned, remember? When you chose _them_." 

"My job...ha. My  _job._ Last I checked, people got paid to work and they didn't, they don't almost...we almost," Simon inhales sharply. "I was trying to help a friend." 

They must be on shaky ground due to the band.

"So was I," Raphael muttered. 

"Yeah, well. I never asked for it." 

It was Raphael's turn to groan now. "For Gods-sake, Simon. Are you really that ignorant or do you _choose_ to ignore what you don't want to see?" 

Simon followed with his own irritated drawn out groan. "What am I missing, hmm? 'Cause all I see is you following me around, pushing me against walls and now you show up at my house to yell at me about Camille? About not eating enough? I don't even know what we're arguing about anymore." 

"I'm not stalking you, idiota. I'm  _trying_ to find Camille which is more than I can say for _you_." 

"...at my house. Here, see the closet? Empty? Under my bed? Nope, not there either. Trust me I'd love to find her so we could stop meeting like this." 

What the-?

"I want you to lead me  _to_ her. Have you forgotten what she did to you? I don't trust her," Raphael confessed. 

Jesus. This girl was a real walking disaster. 

Simon huffed. "Why do you care?"

"I gave Clary my word that I'd look after you. I never go back on my word."

Strange. Why would he need to do that? Come to think of it, Clary hadn't been around much lately. The last time they'd talked, Clary had been acting erratic about stolen credit cards and now she was having Raphael protect Simon? 

"So that's why...because you're keeping your word. Boy are you gonna be happy to hear this then," Simon bellowed. And then he began to lose speed and stamina halfway through the sentence. "You're a free man now, no more Simon Lewis coming in and making a big mess out of everything." His hands made a slapping noise as he dropped them to the side of his legs, defeated. 

 

"Dios! ¿Tengo que explicar todo por ti?"

What?

Simon exhaled loudly. "What did you call me??" 

This time, when Raphael growled, it came out louder and deeper. "I said. _Do I have to explain everything for you_." 

"Out. Out of my house. We're done here." 

Spoken like a true couple. Everyone goes through rough spells and bumps in the road. How you choose to pick up the pieces after is where it matters. You get past the yelling, accusations, petty arguments and then you make up as if it never happened. They're finding this out the hard way it seems. 

"I'm not finished."

The bed squeaked under the weight of Simon retreating under his covers. "Then come back tomorrow and continue your tirade, interrogation, whatever this is but don't take the front door. My mom might see you and I don't know why but she seems to like you."

"Simon. Fledgling. Baby. Listen to me. Don't speak."

 _Baby._ And here comes the making up.

Simon, surprisingly, didn't make a peep. 

"I want. I need an advisor. If you don't accept I'll have to take up Margot just to get her off my back and you know how I feel about her. She's family, I care about my family, but-"

"-she's an airhead," Simon finished, laughter in his voice. 

"Sure. A head full of air, she's useless when it comes to inventory. Math isn't her best subject." 

Simon is a whiz with numbers, this could work. If they can mend the professional rift in their relationship the rest will be smooth sailing. She finds herself hoping because this boy is good for her son. He makes sure that he's fed, fusses over him, even makes house calls in the night to make up. 

"The others?"

"They're under my authority. They're aware of what happens should they try anything," Raphael replies. 

Protective as well.

"Camille?"

"We'll find her."

_We._

Raphael continued, "Your room is as you've left it. When you're ready..." 

"I figured you would've emptied it out the day after," Simon guffawed. 

"Why would I do that? It's yours." 

"I dunno. I, um, when can I?"

"Tonight if you'd like."

Simon laughed, voice light. "Pretty sure my mom would notice." 

I don't mind, she thought. I really don't. 

As long as they drop in for dinner and the occasional overnight visit, she's fine. God knows the house is too quiet without Simon and Rebecca but they're old enough now to leave the nest and Simon happened to have a safe landing. 

"She might," Raphael chuckled.

"...will you stay? Tonight I mean. Y'know what, nevermind. I'm sleep deprived, iron deficient, possibly anemic. Throat's feeling kind of fuzzy," Simon rambled. He tended to do that when he was nervous or afraid. 

"It's midnight and I brought you food," Raphael countered. 

The moment lapsed into silence and she nearly walked away, disappointed in not hearing a resolution. 

"How am I supposed to fit? You're taking up most of the bed."

Elaine teared up. God bless 'em. There was the sound of sheets rustling, pillows being fluffed into submission. And then-

"Why did you really come over, Raphael?"

"To do this."

She tip toes away, quiet as she can. Tomorrow, she figures, Raphael will swing by for dinner and Simon will pretend to be surprised. 

* * *

 

 

On the other side of the door Simon is flat on his back, allowing Raphael to half lie on him, their noses close enough to brush. If he had a heartbeat it'd be pounding it's way up into an anxiety attack because he has dreamed of this moment too many times to count only he never made it this far. Not since the betrayal at least. He never thought he'd get the chance to have this again. 

Up close, he notes how Raphael's eyes are a shimmering black that puts the night sky to shame. And there's a scar on his cheek from a story Simon doesn't know yet. 

Raphael's palm is cool against his cheek, his touch gentle in a way that the bold persona he puts on isn't. This is the side only I know, Simon thinks. Even before he'd royally screwed up, Raphael had allowed himself to soften around Simon. They'd shared clothes, the occasional heated kiss and Raphael's hand snaking it's way up his thigh.  _That_ happened exactly once and they'd never had the chance to make the magic happen again because Simon was standing on the wrong side of love three days later. 

Neither would say it but they'd been falling slowly since that first day at Hotel DuMort when Simon had blew a silly sound into an antique to make Raphael smile. 

 

Simon tilts his chin up, purposely grazing Raphael's nose with his own. It's forgiveness and love in the simplest terms. 

"You were right," Raphael admitted, lips hovering over a cheekbone but not touching. 

"Mm yeah," Simon murmured. "Wait. 'bout what?"

"I do miss you, mi el novato de otro pais."

(I do miss you, my fledgling)

"Prove it." 

When their lips touch it's like lightning striking the same spot twice. Rare and beautiful, something that not everyone can understand. Simon skims a hand over Raphael's expensive navy blue vest and follows it to the curve of his lower back, his own arching up to bridge the gap. It return he gets a low moan and sharp teeth gently nipping at his bottom lip. It's heaven on earth and his body immediately recognizes the slope of Raphael's. They move together under the sheet, blindly tugging and unbuttoning with hungry desperation. 

Raphael runs his tongue over the side of Simon's neck, one hand under his head and the other wrapped around a hip bone. "Quiero saborearte, mi amor." 

Simon flunked out of Spanish class in high school but he recognizes the words  _My love_ when he hears them. It makes his stomach do a pleasant flip flop. 

Raphael hums under his breath, burying his face in Simon's neck. "I want to taste you my love," he translates. 

In response, Simon cups the back of his head and presses. "Please. Mi...uh...what was that? Mi amor. That's it, that's you." 

He means every stumbled upon word. If you'd told him some three years ago or even six months ago that he'd be professing his love to a surprisingly hot vampire and all but begging him to drink, he'd walk away without a word. But here they are in Simon's worn in bed behind a door that he hadn't bothered locking, after a heated argument. 

Raphael shivers, drops a kiss to the delicate skin and sinks his teeth in. From there it's soft moans and intimate words spoken against his skin in a language he has yet to master. 

He reluctantly leaves before the sun rises.

* * *

 

 

Simon moves out the next day. 

They have dinner with Elaine two days after that. She breaks out the fine china and photo albums. She's earned it, she figures. And deserves a gold star for how well she'd faked her surprise, honestly. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I threw in some plot twists in there that weren't in Part 1 because it was from elaine's pov ;) she wasn't wrong though. they had been something magical at point in time.
> 
> also I rewrote this sequel no less than four times and kept ditching them. this one finally made the cut and I'm not overly thrilled with it but that's writing for you. thank you so much for your kudos, comments and for simply reading my work. you make me tremendously happy <3


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